


the eyes of a blood drunk hunter

by transsalfisher



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Gore, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Other, i don’t like this but i’m sharing this with you regardless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14774828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transsalfisher/pseuds/transsalfisher
Summary: Viola has finally put an end to his bloodlust.





	the eyes of a blood drunk hunter

“Gascoigne!” She screams again, finally getting a response. “You need to come home! Do you know how long you’ve been gone?!”

Gascoigne huffs and slowly stands, bearing his teeth at the small woman. He roars at her then charges her. Viola takes a few steps back, feeling her heart rise up to her chest. Gascoigne stops a few inches away from her. He inhales and exhales heavily, his lip curling upwards into a snarl.

“Your children have been wondering about you for almost a month now.” She says lowly, expertly hiding the fear from seeping into her voice. “It’s time to stop this nonsense.”

Gascoigne’s expression softens for a moment. He lets out a small whine and presses closer to Viola, his snout almost touching her nose. Viola’s expression softens and she’s just about to lower her guard before Gascoigne starts snarling again, his mouth foaming. 

She puffs out her chest, trying to seem bigger than she really is. She swallows hard and stares down his snout. It isn’t the first time she’s come face to face with this beast.

“Is it worth it?” She growls. “Is it worth abandoning your family?”

Gascoigne lets out a loud roar and strikes her, knocking her to the ground as he runs away. Viola sees stars for a moment as she tries to keep track of her tainted husband. She touches her ribs, alarmed to feel the warmth of blood under the fabric of her dress. She pushes herself up and follows in her husband’s tracks.

She’s going to put to an end to this bloodlust.

She finds herself standing in a graveyard when she finally catches up with him. The wind is blowing violently, bringing the stale stench of blood with it. She watches her husband tear apart some of Yharnam’s livestock in a corner of the yard, hidden behind headstones.

Viola closes her eyes, inhaling slowly. She thinks of her children back home, of Gascoigne, of being a happy family. They will overcome this. Gascoigne is going to push past this beasthood and…

Her thoughts are interrupted as Gascoigne lets out a deafening roar, snarling at her from the graveyard. She stares at him, blonde hair falling from her tightly pulled bun.

“Do you remember me?” She calls over the wind, advancing into the graveyard. “Do you remember who I am?”

Gascoigne begins to stalk toward her, planning his moves carefully as he licks his lips, growling.

“I’m your wife,” she says. “We were married in the spring. We have two children.”

Gascoigne lets out another roar and it takes everything inside of Viola not to flinch. She reaches her hand out for Gascoigne to sniff. He does, then licks over the palm of it, a sign of affection between the two of them.

“That’s it,” she smiles, relieved. “Viola… I’m right here. Viola. You know who that is.”

Gascoigne leans forward, sniffing at her neck and nosing at her ear. She smiles and gently lets down his snout. 

“You’ve gotten out of control, love,” she whispers. “It’s time for us to go home.”

Gascoigne let’s out a whimper and pulls away. He whimpers more desperately, nudging her back towards the entrance of the graveyard. She bats his snout away and stops, brows furrowed.

“Come now, I’m not leaving without you.” She says. “The girls need you.”

Gascoigne whimpers loudly, almost desperately, before he curls in on himself. He growls lowly, advancing towards Viola. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and she quickly looks for an escape. If she runs towards the entrance, she’ll be running right into his arms.

She slowly takes a few steps back, planning each step strategically in her head. Gascoigne gets closer, dangerously close, and pulls his arm back. He swipes at Viola and just barely gets her leg. The woman lets out a loud cry of pain, but doesn’t dwell. Viola backs up faster, looking around the stone stairs for something she can use to defend herself.

She feels her heart floor with a certain hope, a feeling of relief, and she quickly pushes one of her hands into her dress pockets. She feels around, then frowns when all she grabs her house key.

No…

She puts her hand in the other pocket and feels sick when she finds it empty. She looks at Gascoigne as he rears back again, getting ready to charge.

How could she have forgotten the fucking music box?

She runs as fast as she can up the stone stairs and across the ground. Gascoigne quickly follows her and she feels panic when she reaches a dead end. She looks around until she spots a tree branch hanging over the old groundskeeper’s hut.

She swallows hard, pulling her skirts up and starting to climb. She drops herself down onto the roof of the hut and watches as Gascoigne sniffs for her. She thinks for a moment she’s gotten him off of her trail. She just needs to wait until he reverts back to himself.

Gascogne, her husband, the father of her children. It would be alright.

A deafening crash pulls her out of her thoughts again and, suddenly, Gascoigne is on the roof with her. Viola’s face pales and she goes to run, but encounters the edge sooner than she would have liked to. She has to stay calm. Gascoigne won’t kill her. He never has, he never well. 

She looks up at him as he gets closer, rising onto her hind legs. She sees an opportunity and takes it, quickly crawling between his legs and back towards the tree. He snags her dress with his claws and turns to follow her. She tries to break free, but he has her now.

Gascoigne towers over her, panting and drooling. He growls loudly and lets out a harsh roar. Viola flinches. She can’t worry, she can’t. She has to stay calm.

Gascoigne snarls and bares his teeth again, his lips curling up past his gums.

“Gascoigne,” she says weakly. “Gascoigne, my love, my hunter, it’s me.”

Gascoigne stares down at her, letting out a quieter growl. 

With a trembling hand, Viola reaches up and gently runs her fingers soothingly along his snout. He stops his growling and snarling, pushing his snout up into the touch. She smiles a little, relieved. 

“That’s it…” She coos. “My sweet Gascoigne.”

“Viola…” Comes his low voice.

Viola has never felt more relieved in her life. He’s coming back to his humanity, thank the Gods.

She leans up, pressing a small kiss to his cold nose. Gascoigne recoils and he’s reverted back to growling and snarling.

“Darling,” she whispers desperately. “Please, I know you can come back to yourself. Please.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Viola pinned beneath his leg. For a moment, she thinks he might be getting ready to revert back.

Except, when he reads back, the familiar cloud of golden dust doesn’t come with it.

She reaches her hands up as if to defend herself and gums the tune the music box plays.

Gascoigne doesn’t even hesitate.

Viola’s eyes widen as her husband unleashes on himself her. He reaches to her chest and, in one easy movement, rips out her sternum. When he decides it isn’t enough, he reaches back again and pulls out her heart.

He lets out a triumphant roar, dropping the heart next to his wife’s corpse. He begins to stalk away but freezes, his body beginning to convulse. A golden cloud of dust appears for only a second and there Gascoigne stands.

He pants and looks down at his bloodied hands. He looks around at the blood beneath him, then follows the trail back to his prey.

He feels his stomach lurch. This is something directly from one of his nightmares.

He rushes over to his wife, kneeling down and clutching her in his arms. It’s too late and he knows it. He’s completely ripped her heart from her chest.

Tears start to flood down his cheeks like a waterfall as he gently lifts her head. He lets out a low sob, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Viola…” He whispers, fisting his hands into the fabric of her dress. “Viola, I’m so sorry.” He sobs.

Viola has finally put an end to his bloodlust.


End file.
